Shattered
by Bellantara
Summary: A broken Voltron Force returns to Arus to liberate it and confront their betrayer. . .
1. Chapter 1

Lance McClain limped into the restaurant, his one good eye narrowing when he saw who waited for him. "Marriage suits you, _Majesty_," he noted, lacing the words with venom. He dropped into a chair, stiffly stretching his left leg out in front of him.

Allura flushed. "Lance, it . . . it's good to see you. Thank you-"

"I'm only here because Keith asked it." Lance cut her off with a sharp gesture. "So cut to the chase, Majesty, because I don't like leaving him alone for long. What do you want?"

"Help. From all of you." Allura looked down at her folded hands. "I know I have no right to ask—"

"Damned straight you don't," Lance snapped, coldly furious. "Ask your _husband_ for help. Or is Lotor too busy with his harem?"

"He's who I need help against. I was so wrong; he—he mistreats me, he's destroying Arus. . ." Allura looked up with tears in her eyes.

"Keith and I warned you," Lance growled. "We told you and fucking _told_ you not to believe his promises. Nice of you to realize your mistake _after_ we've been destroyed." He struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane. "There's an old Earth saying, Majesty: 'you made your bed, now lie in it.' You betrayed us, as friends, as teammates; hope that bed's comfortable." He walked away, pausing to add, "Even if we wanted to help you, Hunk is the only one of us still able to fly, and he won't leave Pidge. Goodbye, Majesty." He hobbled out, ignoring Allura's continued tears and the stares of the curious patrons.

Keith was asleep when Lance got home, a byproduct of the powerful narcotics he was forced to rely on. Lance kissed his forehead gently, smoothing the unruly black hair back, then went to see about dinner. When he got back, balancing their trays in his good hand, Keith was awake and waiting for him. "So," the former commander of the Voltron Force said softly, words slurred from the drugs in his system, "what does the bitch want?"

Lance shook his head and set the trays down, putting Keith's on the bed table and pushing it close. "Eat first; the others are coming after dinner, and I don't feel like repeating myself." He waited for a minute to make sure Keith could handle his fork; the combination of his pain drugs and the missing fingers on his right hand meant Keith often had trouble with his fine motor control. Several fights and their physical therapist had finally gotten it through to Lance to wait for Keith to ask for help. But this time, Keith had no trouble, and so Lance turned his attention to his own plate.

Eventually, Keith put his fork down. "Let's meet the others in the conference room. At least there I can pretend I'm still a whole person." He pushed the bed table aside and grimly levered himself into his wheelchair. Lance set his own plate aside and reached for his cane, noting that Keith had eaten most of his dinner, for once, and carefully NOT looking at where Keith's legs ended mid-thigh.

Silently the two made their way through the halls to the conference room, where Sven and Romelle already waited for them. As always, Keith and Lance's habitual grimness softened at the sight of their friends, who had risked so much to rescue them from Lotor's gentle graces. Lance shook his head, still amazed at the memory of the daring commando raid the rulers of Pollux had undertaken against the Castle of Lions. The team had been chained in the castle basement, badly injured and waiting for Lotor to return and finish them off, when Sven and Romelle had burst in and swept them off to Pollux.

Hunk came in, carrying a vacantly-staring Pidge, and all of Lance's bitterness returned with a vengeance. He could deal with his own injuries, they all could, but Pidge. . . Their youngest teammate had always managed to keep a certain innocence about him, no matter what they went through, but Allura's betrayal had devastated him. He had retreated within himself, and had not spoken or acknowledged his surroundings since. Lance growled softly. That alone was reason enough to refuse the bitch's plea for help.

Hunk gently settled Pidge in a chair and sat next to him, one hand on his partner's shoulder. "So, what the hell did _she_ want, Lance?"

Lance snorted. "For us to come fix her fuckup."

The room erupted with profanity in at least three different languages. Finally, Keith's voice cut through it all, with a shadow of his old command authority. "Enough. So, the little girl finally got a clue, did she? I hope you told her to fuck off."

"Close enough." Lance leaned back in his chair, carefully stretching his bad leg. He had foregone his pain meds to meet with Allura, and was paying the price. "I told her she made her damned bed, now she had to lie in it."

"Ja, she does," Sven said grimly. "I cannot belief she vould haf de nerve to come here, asking for help, vhen she nearly killed de four of you."

"I know." Lance wearily rubbed the empty socket under his eye patch. "And to have the nerve to tell me Lotor is abusing her and destroying Arus. Like Keith and I didn't tell her he would do exactly that until we were blue in the damned face."

Hunk snorted. "Sucks to be her. Even if we _could_ go bail her out, I wouldn't."

"But. . . that's. . .not who . . . we are." The weak voice, rusty from disuse, startled everyone; it took Lance a minute to register that it came from_ Pidge._ The team stared, wide-eyed, as their youngest looked at them all, intelligence in his hazel eyes for the first time in two years. "The princess screwed up . . . badly. Do we . . . punish the. . . people for it? The people we. . . .swore to protect?"

Lance wanted badly to pace, but knew his leg wouldn't allow it at the moment. He had done his best not to think of the Arusian people suffering under Lotor; they all had. Pidge was right, but. . . . "What the hell can we do about it? Even if we _can_ get on Arus, I'm half blind and crippled, Keith's lost his legs, you and Hunk have your own problems. We aren't the saviors of the universe anymore!"

"We have to try." Pidge insisted weakly. "We're still the Voltron Force; we still made promises to the people of Arus!"

Keith exploded. "And just how the hell am I supposed to fly, Pidge? I don't have legs; I've lost half my damned fingers on my right hand... I'm fucking useless!"

Pidge wavered, then resolve tightened his jaw. "I'm going. I can't turn my back on the people of Arus."

"Then I'm going too." Fear washed over Hunk's blunt features, but quickly passed. "I can't let you go alone."

"Ve vill go vit you," Sven said after an exchange of glances with Romelle.

*You will _all_ go* The bass voice rang through their minds; as it died away, a man appeared at the head of the table, dressed in black armor.

Keith's eyes narrowed. "Who the hell are you?"

*Have you forgotten me so soon, Keith Kogane?* The figure locked eyes with Keith.

"No. . . _Black Lion?_" Keith gasped in disbelief. "But what . . ."

*You are needed on Arus, all of you. You are the Heroes and Champions of Arus; you have a duty to fulfill. We will aid you. But you MUST come.* The man faded away without another word.

"Well, fuck," Lance spat. "Looks like we're going on a little trip."


	2. Chapter 2

_Two years earlier_

Lance sat in the Control Room, watching the monitors. Lotor had been entirely too quiet as of late, and Keith suspected he was planning something big. So did Lance, which was why he had kicked the technician out to take monitor duty himself.

Footsteps sounded behind him, and he smiled. "Evening, Princess," he said without taking his attention from the monitors.

"_How_ do you and Keith _do _that?" Allura demanded, dropping onto the console beside him.

"Easy." Lance turned to grin at her. "You have the lightest footsteps of anyone that would be coming in here, and," he sniffed, "no one else wears Arusian Lilly perfume."

She sighed. "You make it sound so easy. I never know which one of you boys is coming up behind me."

"It _is_ easy, if you're paying attention." Lance got to his feet. "Pidge and Hunk are easy; Pidge's footsteps are very light; Hunk's are very heavy. If you listen to me walk. . ." he took a few steps. "I kinda favor my left leg; I busted my knee pretty good at the Academy. It didn't heal as it should have, and the gravity on Arus isn't kind to it. I always limp a bit, but it's worse when I'm tired."

Allura had never noticed, but now that Lance pointed it out, she _could_ see that he stepped heavier on his right leg. But. . . "If it happened at the Academy, why didn't it heal right? I thought there were doctors there?"

"Of course there were. I fooled them into thinking I wasn't as hurt as I actually was." Lance dropped back into the chair, wearing a shadow of his usual grin. "I was terrified of losing my flight status. So, I iced it, lived on painkillers for a while, and convinced the doctors I didn't need surgery."

Allura shook her head. "You ARE a stubborn one, Lance McClain. It's only flying; was it really worth the risk of crippling yourself?"

Lance's green eyes flew wide. "_Only flying?_ That's like saying it's _only breathing._" He shifted in his chair, looking away from her. "For me, for Keith, flying is everything. There's a peace, a balance we can find in the cockpit that we can find nowhere else. It saved my life, getting in the air when I was 16. I don't think I could live without flying. I don't think I'd _want _to live." He turned his attention back to the monitors. "I really can't explain it any better than that. It's just in our blood."

Allura nodded and looked down at her watch. "Oh! I've got a meeting with Coran in two minutes! I'm going to be late!" Lance laughed and kissed her cheek as she jumped up and sprinted from the room, settling back into the routine of his shift. A part of his mind wondered that he had told her so much; only Keith and Sven knew about his knee. It had always been one of his most closely-guarded secrets, but. . .he shrugged. If he couldn't trust Allura, who COULD he trust?

On her way to lunch after the meeting, Allura caught sight of Hunk out on one of the balconies, back pressed firmly to the wall, but craning to see over the parapet. Curious, she stepped out to join him. "Hunk? What's going on?"

The big man startled, then smiled warmly. "Hiya, Princess. Pidge is showing the kids some of his gymnastics moves down there. I wanted to watch, but he said I would make him nervous." He craned to look over the balcony again, still pressed to the wall.

Allura took his hand. "Silly, you can see better from the railing!" She started to pull him away from the wall, only to be stopped dead as he didn't move. She looked back to see his face was white. "Hunk?"

The big man gulped audibly and shook his head. "Sorry, Princess. Kinda got a thing about heights. I'm OK in the cockpit, but otherwise. . ." He looked at her almost shyly. "Don't tell anybody? The guys know, but. . .I'm supposed to be all tough and brave, y'know?"

She nodded and patted his hand. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Hunk. Everybody's afraid of _something_."

"I know, but still. . ." Hunk looked away, watching Pidge with the children. A ghost of a smile flitted across his face. "He's still so much a kid himself," he said softly. "I can't tell you how much that means to us, how hard Keith, Lance, Sven and me have fought to keep him like that. He's only 18, y'know? And with what we have to do. . .We try to keep him as innocent as we can."

Allura leaned against the wall with him, watching until Keith called them and said lunch was ready. Lunch in the Castle was a casual affair, usually consisting of sandwiches the team made themselves and soup or salad. They sat at the table with no consideration for rank, talking about what they were working on, any news from home the boys had gotten, what Sven and Romelle were up to. . .

After lunch, Keith called a quick Lion practice; Lotor had been too quiet of late, and he didn't want them to get rusty. Following that, he and Lance took Allura to the gym to work on her hand to hand combat, going easy on her as there was a ball in a few days and they didn't want her bruised.

Before dinner was a strategy meeting with Keith, Lance, and Coran, going over the security plans for the ball. Keith had, as always, thought of everything, and Lance was to escort her. The two of them promised to dance with her as often as possible, to keep the worst of her suitors at bay. It made her smile, how they always protected her, regardless of the cost to themselves. Finally, dinner was announced, and Keith offered her his arm to escort her in. Lance followed behind them, pulling her chair out before taking his own seat at her left as Keith sat at her right. Dinner conversation centered on the ball, the boys listening attentively to Allura talking about her dress and who she hoped to dance with. They even managed to keep their eyes from glazing over.

Lance watched Allura carefully as they ate. Something had seemed off about her the last few days; he just couldn't put his finger on exactly what, so he had made up his mind to keep an eye on her. It didn't seem to be anything bad; she was eating normally, was apparently happy, just . . . a little too happy, and _glowing_. It finally connected in his mind, and he grinned. "Who's the lucky guy, Princess?" he asked softly when Keith was talking to Hunk and Pidge.

Allura was startled. "I-I don't know what you mean," she denied hastily.

"Oh, I think you do," Lance countered with a chuckle. "C'mon, this is ME you're talking to. I know you better than anyone. And you're showing all the signs of a woman in love." He took her hand gently. "It's all right; you don't have to tell me if you aren't ready. I just hope you are happy with whoever he is, and he damned well better treat you right, or answer to US." Allura blushed and thanked him; he smiled gently. "We love you, Princess. All we want is to see you happy."

After dinner, Allura claimed a headache and went to her room, bypassing the usual Tuesday night movie with the boys. As she closed the door behind her, a male voice spoke gently from the darkness. "I've missed you. Did you have a good day?"

"I did!" Allura smiled and rushed into her lover's arms. "I learned so much about the boys today!" She kissed him, then excitedly told him what she had learned about each of her teammates. "I can't wait for you to meet them," she finished, looking up at him shyly. "But right now, I want. . . " she blushed, unable to finish the sentence. Her lover chuckled and swept her up, taking her to her bed.

Much later, she curled into his side, sated and sleepy. "I love you," she murmured, falling into an exhausted sleep. Her lover kissed her tenderly, tucking her closer to him as he lay awake. He should have thought of this strategy months ago. Allura wanted to be loved, and to have someone be attentive to her. Three weeks of paying attention to her babbling, and pretending to be kind, had gotten him further than he ever dreamed possible. Lotor smiled in the dark. Next step would be to use his darling's information to break her protectors, the Voltron Force.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: The names the Lions use for the Force are borrowed with permission from AquaLion and the Twitter RP, with much thanks. Enjoy!

Two days after Black made his startling appearance, Lance surveyed the ragtag remains that used to be the heroic Voltron Force. The only ones who looked remotely capable of a fight were Sven and Romelle; Hunk was pale and thin, Pidge had a tremor in his hands that he couldn't hide, and Keith stared ahead blankly, having dosed himself with his heavier pain meds to manage the flight to Arus. "Heh, you're no prize either, McClain," he said to himself, limping onto Sven's ship behind Keith's chair. His knee ached, but was bearable under his meds; his missing right eye throbbed oddly beneath the patch. He secured Keith's chair to a bulkhead, then lowered himself into a seat with a groan.

Sven watched from the pilot's chair as his friends made their slow, painful ways onto the ship. A familiar icy rage swept over him as he took each of them in, noting how diminished they were, how little remained of the brash, cocky Space Explorers he had come to the Denubian with. Not for the first time, he whispered a prayer to Skadi, Norse goddess of justice and vengeance, that she would grant him the favor of avenging his shattered brothers. Finally they were settled, Keith lost in the fog of narcotics that had become his world, Lance grimly holding his ruined right hand, Hunk and Pidge clinging to each other trembling. Romelle took the copilot's seat beside him; quickly he finished the preflight checks and lifted off, pretending he did not hear the groans of pain behind him as g-forces assaulted damaged bodies. "Almost out," he whispered, pushing the little ship through Pollux's atmosphere and into open space.

The flight to Arus was quick, Sven using all his skill to make it as easy as possible on his former teammates. As they approached atmosphere, Lance struggled to his feet and came to stand beside Sven's chair, looking out at the world he used to defend. "Home sweet fucking home," he drawled harshly. "Holy shit, I thought I'd never have to see this hellhole again."

Sven winced at Lance's tone and language, then swore in his native Norwegian as the surface of Arus came into view. Lance leaned down, bracing heavily on Sven's chair, and echoed the profanity. Arus lay in ruins, the once green fields scarred and pitted like the surface of Doom itself. An arena squatted, dark and brooding, just behind the Castle of Lions, which bore a death's head where the crest of Arus had once hung. Strangely, despite the ruins and noxious smoke, the lake appeared pristine, and the two pilots could make out a patch of green forest and bright desert sand. "De lions," Sven said quietly. "Dey still hold deir dens. . ."

"Best news I've heard in two years," Lance answered, sounding something like his old self. He limped back to his seat, unable to stand any more, and settled in for landing.

Sven was surprised at the lack of defensive response, or any response at all from the Castle, and started looking for a likely landing site before someone decided to rectify that oversight. Just as he decided on a spot, the ship shuddered in the grip of a force field. "_Hva i helvete?_ Romelle, full power to the engines, NOW!" He fought the controls grimly, not even swearing, until a familiar and dear presence swept through his mind like cool water.

*Relax, Iceblade, dearheart. We have you, we have cloaked your arrival, and are bringing you down in a safe place. Be at peace; all will be clear shortly.* Sven's hands went limp on the controls as Blue's voice faded from his mind and he sat stunned, oblivious even to Romelle's questions.

Behind him, Lance sat up straighter as sparks flew into his mind, flaring into a roaring fire that melted away his aches and pains, soothing and restoring a connection he thought lost. *Fireheart. Brother. . .Welcome back; I have missed you greatly.* An outpouring of love followed the words, prompting a flood of tears from the former pilot as he felt Red come back into his mind.

*Windseeker. . .* A cool rush of wind accompanied the whisper of thought, blowing away the cobwebs that had clouded Pidge's mind, bringing him back into light, sanity, and coherence. He had a flood of questions, but Green gently swirled them away on the wind. *In time, little one. All will be made clear in time. Rest until I see you; much there is to be done.*

Hunk watched Lance and Pidge, bewildered at the tears from one and new-found serenity in the expression of the other, until a voice deep and solid as the planet's bedrock echoed in his thoughts. *Earthwarder. Remember who you are, remember your strength. Foundation you once were, foundation you shall be again.* He took a shuddering breath, feeling the stability of his bond with Yellow reasserting itself in his mind.

Keith drifted in the darkness, not thinking, not feeling, just. . .drifting, blessedly free of pain, though a small corner of his mind wept at the price of that freedom. Suddenly lightning flashed in the darkness, and a voice boomed like the thunder. *Stormsoul. Voltron Force Commander. You are more and better than this. Come back to what you were; when you wake there will be no more pain. But you MUST wake.* The lightning flashed again; Keith felt the drugs leave his system, but curiously, felt no pain as they departed. He came back to himself and opened his eyes to see Lance with tears streaming down his face. Wordlessly, he reached over and took his partner's hand, belatedly noting the return of a familiar and sorely-missed presence at the back of his mind. . .

Without any input from Sven, the ship came down to a smooth landing next to Green's den. The ragtag group stumbled out, looking around themselves uncertainly. A thread of whisper through their bonds led them into the darkened den and to huddle at the silent feet of Green Lion. *Welcome, Voltron Force. Too long has it been since you were here.* Light slowly blossomed from Green's eyes; the black-armored man they had seen on Pollux stepped forward, flanked by two men in red and yellow armor, and two women in blue and green.

"Yeah, well, hasn't been long enough, in my opinion," Lance snorted, pacing and leaning on his cane. "If you dragged us here for Her Royal Bitchiness, you wasted your time. I'm not doing shit for her."

*No, that is not why you are here. * The man in red cut Lance's pacing off, fire in his eyes. *The Forsworn will get no help from us but the justice she has earned. *

*You are here for Arus, for the people.* The woman in green came and stood by Pidge; the yellow knight took a position by Hunk, the blue by Sven, and lastly Black stood before Keith. *You are her knights, her Champions, and she has great need of you.*

"And exactly what do you expect US to do?" Keith snapped. "In case you haven't noticed, we're _crippled_, thanks to Allura!"

*Of course we have noticed,* Black rumbled. *And that can no longer be allowed to stand.* He put his hands on Keith's shoulders; Red, Yellow, and Green did the same with their bonded. Light flared brightly around each pair, so bright Sven and Romelle cried out and had to turn away. When the light faded and the Norwegian could see again, something seemed . . . changed about his teammates. Their old confidence and competence had returned. But the full extent of the changes did not sink in until Romelle pulled his sleeve and pointed with a gasp to Keith and Lance. Lance had dropped his cane and was slowly removing his eyepatch, blinking and touching a clear, functional, green eye. Keith. . ._Keith was standing, _for the first time in two years, his legs restored. As he turned and embraced Lance, weeping, Sven's attention was captured by Blue.

*Iceblade. You have a special purpose in this mission. You are to retake your place from the Forsworn, but you are also to be the Sword of our Justice against her.* She took his right hand in both of hers, closing her eyes as a gentle light glowed around them. As Sven watched, a broadsword, very much the duplicate of Voltron's Blazing Sword, formed in his hand.

Black looked around in satisfaction at the restored Force as Keith regained his control and met his bonded Lion's gaze. *This is, regrettably, only temporary. So, then. . . let us discuss the salvation of Arus, Champions. There is much to be done.*


	4. Chapter 4

Lance hated Allura's fancy balls. He hated the disapproving looks from her snobby courtiers-who wouldn't even be alive to give those looks without the team—he hated the princes fawning over her that weren't worthy to even look at her. He hated his tight, overly starched dress uniform that had no place for weapons, and the collar that perpetually choked him. Most of all, he hated the disapproving looks he and Keith always got for daring to openly display their relationship. But he loved Allura, they all did. And these balls meant the world to her; they were a link to her past, a chance for her to forget the war, forget Lotor's obsession, and just be a girl for a night. So, he fastened the tight collar, took shallow breaths as he buttoned his tunic, and belted on the absolutely useless dress sword. With a last longing look at his pistols abandoned on the bed, he headed out to collect Allura. Keith was, of course, already in the ballroom, as were Pidge and Hunk, putting the final touches on security for the night.

To his irritation, but not surprise, Allura wasn't ready when he arrived at her rooms, forcing him to cool his heels in the hall for an additional fifteen minutes. _Next time I'll tell her to be ready 30 minutes before she needs to be,_ he grumbled to himself, leaning on the wall. Keith had gotten in a good whack to his bad knee in practice that afternoon, and his mood had taken a corresponding hit. _Don't know what in seven hells takes so long to put a dress on, anyway. _He glanced up as the door slid open, ready to make a sarcastic crack about the delay. . .and the words died on his lips as Allura walked out. The blonde curls, poofy pink dress, and little girlishness were all gone; instead, he was greeted by a vision of sophistication that would have been at home anywhere, blonde hair piled high on her head, wearing an emerald dress that hugged her curves and was slit to her hip. Before Lance knew what he was doing, a low wolf whistle escaped him. Allura giggled, turning in place. "Does that mean you approve, Commander McClain?"

Lance chuckled, offering her his arm. "Sweetheart, if I wasn't happily married to Keith, I'd SHOW you just how much I approve." He leaned over and kissed her cheek as she tucked her hand into his elbow. "You look gorgeous, Princess. A real grownup woman. Guys are going to be fighting over you tonight."

"Thank you," Allura blushed as they walked. "I'm sorry I was late; it took me forever to convince Nanny this was all right to wear. Told her I needed to be seen as a strong woman, not a helpless little girl."

"Very sensible," Lance agreed, then shot her a sly smile. "Or could it be that your mystery man is going to be there tonight, and you want him to see a different side of you?" He laughed when she squeaked and swatted his shoulder. "Thought so. Do we need to worry about your virtue, Princess?"

"Lance Charles McClain, that is NONE of your business!" she squealed, every bit as red as his lion."I don't know if he's going to be there; he wasn't sure if he could get away. But you WILL NOT embarrass me if he does!"

Lance stopped dead in the hallway, turning to face her and putting his hands on her shoulders. "Allura. . . you're serious about this guy, aren't you?" She nodded up at him, and he sighed. "Princess, we'll have to talk to him. See who he is, what his intentions are with you. But-" he held up a hand to forestall her protest. "I promise, we'll be quiet and polite about it. You know we won't do anything to hurt you, but we DO have to protect you." He kissed her forehead. "Now; let's go have some fun, huh? It's your party; let's get it started!"

The ball went smoothly for the first couple of hours. Allura danced once with each of the Force members and Sven, who had come from Pollux with a pregnant Romelle, before getting down to the serious business of dancing with princes and seeing who was marriage material. The boys commandeered a table in the corner and settled in to watch, Romelle providing pointed commentary on each prince as they took their turn. "It just doesn't seem fair," Pidge commented softly, eyes on Allura and the latest would-be suitor. "She meets a guy once, maybe twice, and she's gotta marry him?" He glanced at Romelle. "Why can't she marry whoever she wants, like you did?"

The room temperature abruptly plunged 20 degrees as Romelle eyed Pidge. "Allura. . .is not damaged goods," she finally answered, voice and blue eyes frozen. "Her council still sees value in her, and want to sell her to the highest bidder." She startled as a pair of thin arms circled her waist, followed by the familiar strength of her husband's arms around her shoulders.

"You aren't damaged goods!" Pidge insisted fiercely; the others nodded, adding their own words of support until Lance directed their attention to the front of the room.

"Looks like Allura's really taken with this guy," he said quietly, nodding to the beaming princess greeting a tall prince with long red hair. _Is this your mystery love, Allura? Can he make you happy?_

"Huh, it sure does," Keith watched for a minute. "And she's awful comfortable with him, too. Like this isn't the first time they've met."

Unaware of the team's scrutiny, Allura swept out onto the dance floor with the mysterious stranger. Other couples stopped dancing to watch their princess, smiling to see her so clearly in love, and with a handsome prince who clearly adored _her._ When the music finally ended, Allura came to the Force's table on the prince's arm. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Prince Caerdrys, from planet Macera. We've been corresponding, and I've agreed to be courted by him! Caerdrys, this is Princess Romelle of Pollux, her consort Sven, and the Voltron Force, Keith, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge."

"A pleasure to meet you all," Caerdrys inclined his head graciously, his voice smooth and surprisingly deep. "Allura has told me so much about you in our correspondence; I feel as though I know each of you well already."

"Welcome to Arus, Your Highness," Keith answered for the group. "We look forward to getting to know you better in the coming days." The prince nodded vaguely, then let himself be dragged to another group by Allura.

"I don't like that guy," Lance growled once they were out of earshot. "Something about him doesn't feel right; I just can't put my finger on it."

"Then let me help you," Romelle said, voice cool and soft. "Macera is a democracy, has been for centuries. They HAVE no royal family. And Allura should know that."

As one the men of the Voltron Force stared out at their princess and her suddenly ominous new suitor. "Then who is Caerdrys?" Pidge questioned. "Does Allura KNOW he's fake?"


End file.
